Charles E. Burchfield (1893-1967)

on my way to work, I saw her again calmly perched on the branch. Start out for a walk after supper. A wind begins to blow from out of the north.The sun about an hour from the horizon is most beautiful. Sinking in bank of vague red-violet mists, it glows, a sort of brilliant but tarnished yellow, and the light flows into the red¬-violet, and creates a wonderful color. Imagine a mixture of red-violet & yellow, which still retains the qualities of both, now you think it is one, & again the other.